Dwellers of the Veil
by Lixia
Summary: [note: must finish reading OotP before reading this, as it contains spoilers] Happens after Harry's 5th year at Hogwarts; Another world beyond the veil, and the will to escape. Can't reveal anymore, or I'll give away the 'death'~ [chapter 3 up]
1. Prologue & Chapter One

[Disclaimer;] I do not own any of the characters, or any places, etc…it is all from JK Rowling, and is owned by her. I do however; own the made-up fanfiction-y events that take place. 

[Authors Note;] I want to dedicate this fan fiction piece to one of my bestest friends, Rachel. =) She gave me the idea of using Sirius in the future. I would recommend that you have read Order of the Phoenix before reading this fanfiction, as it will provide many, many spoilers, for example the number one spoiler concerning Sirius Black. 

I decided to write an HP fanfiction, which I've never thought to do, as I usually stick to Final Fantasy fanfiction. Anyway so I guess technically its my first fanfiction story for HP. 

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Dwellers of the Veil

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By: Lixia

Prologue

_'Come on, you can do better than that!' he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room._

_The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest._

_The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock. Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore too, turned towards the dais. _

_It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back into place._

_Harry heard Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing—Sirius had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second… _

_But Sirius did not reappear._

_'SIRIUS!'__ Harry yelled. 'SIRIUS!'_

Chapter 1

The arch stood as it was in the Ministry of Magic building, hidden from any public view, as it could only be found once someone went through the Department of Mysteries. Harry had been hurt; he had no idea where his godfather had gone, but he dared not begin to believe that he was actually dead. Because he was _not dead. _

Harry had left that very room, and the many rooms, feeling numb throughout, and sick to his stomache. His only wizard relative was…what? Gone? Dead? No. But he had no idea how he could reach him. He often found himself gazing at the mirror his godfather had left him, hoping to see his smiling face, laughing and advising Harry when he was in the worst of situations. Or perhaps he held it as a sort of solace to cope with his godfather's disappearance. Yes, that was what he would call it. A disappearance. Sirius was not dead, and he would come back. He just…couldn't find a way out through that veil yet.

There was proof that Sirius was alive, Harry knew it. He had heard whispering that day, when he fought the Death Eaters. He may not have been able to see what lay beyond the veil, but he knew that there was something there…people there…and he knew Sirius would be there with them. He would be okay. He would come back. Luna Lovegood had told him that they weren't dead, and he believed her. Dumbledore, Lupin, even Sir Nicholas were wrong. Sirius was _not_ dead. He would return. The things they said to him about his godfather's whereabouts pained him more than they would ever know. Why would they give up so soon? Why didn't they even try to see whether they could bring Sirius back? Did they want him to die? Was that it? It struck a pang of anger in his gut that passed as quickly as it came. No, no one wanted him to die…Lupin was one of Sirius' best friends; he wouldn't want him to die. Dumbledore knew Sirius was a good man, and he surely wouldn't want to wish ill upon him. Sir Nicholas didn't even know Sirius except when he had been a young boy, and there was no need to wish him ill.

Yet Harry remained to be confused. They hadn't even tried to save him from the veil. Why was that?

Summer at Privet Drive was almost as dull as ever. He knew Voldemort was back, there was no doubt about it. There was also no point in listening to the news any longer; he knew about the Order, he knew about Voldemort's return, and he knew the entire prophecy. Any other information, any updates, he would have already known about. He spent his days wandering, as he did last summer, around Little Whinging, often crossing paths with Dudley who was just as fat, and just as stupid as he always had been. His friends were just as bad. They never touched Harry though, not since he came back from Hogwarts some few weeks ago. It was as if they could sense that Harry was much more different than he used to be, because he was. Harry had had to live through many more deaths than any boy of 15, nearly 16, should, and all of them were people that were most dear to him. It almost seemed like he was covered in a blanket of darkness and death. He had seen much of it, and the darkness seemed to show in his eyes. The prophecy, now a burden on his shoulders also seemed to express its darkness across Harry's aura. Dudley and his friends weren't particularly scared of him, since they still occasionally taunted him when they were extremely bored, but they avoided beating him up anymore.

He found himself sitting on the bench across from the swings, all three, now broken by Dudley and his gang. He saw them a distance away, walking and smoking. He noticed Dudley looking at him as well, but he didn't seem to be steering his gang towards him. Avoidance at its best. 

He looked down at his shoes, worn from walking, and felt a prickle in the corners of his eyes. He hadn't cried despite his desire to. He felt he had to keep strong, if not for everyone else, then for him. He couldn't show weakness now that Voldemort was back. He had to stay strong. But the thoughts of Sirius lingered in his mind so strongly, he could almost hear his voice, laughing at a joke he and Ron told him, or telling him about his days at Hogwarts when he was a young boy. His throat began to ache. He raised his head and stared up at the graying sky. A storm looked like it was about to make its way across Surrey. Oddly enough, it reflected his mood: dark and somewhat morose. 

"Where are you, Sirius?" Harry murmured to the sky, and felt a warm wetness at his eyes. It couldn't possibly be raining now, could it? His eyes began to blur, and the aching at his throat increased; where were his friends when he needed them? Where was his solace? Where was anyone to help ease his pain and the burden he carried with him? No longer could he stay angry at anyone; he wanted someone to be there for him. Sirius had been. Had been, until he disappeared. The wetness formed into tears which began to stream down his face. 

Sitting in the park on a bench all alone, Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and the boy who faced more danger than any boy of fifteen, cried. 


	2. Chapter Two

[Disclaimer;] I do not own any of the characters, or any places, etc…it is all from JK Rowling, and is owned by her. I do however; own the made-up events that take place.

[Authors Note;] I apologize that these chapters are very much shorter than the usual chapter length I write at, but I've been having a sort of author's rut, I suppose you could say. Anyway, please read my fanfiction and enjoy. Comment when you've read it. I would greatly appreciate it. =) 

I decided to can the prologue chapter, as my direction of story has changed, so I re-did the chapters to make them according to the FF.net chapter form.

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Dwellers of the Veil

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By: Lixia

Chapter 2

I woke up, aching. I didn't think I would wake up, to tell the truth. It hurt to breathe, and it hurt to even move. I lay where I had landed thinking about the events that passed before I came to where I was. I didn't open my eyes yet…it hurt to even try and open them. 

Around me I could hear talking. They weren't loud, but there were voices and they were audible. I slowly opened my eyes. It was dark around me, darker than any night, and blacker than any black on a paint palette.   
  


It came to me, then. All the images and memories I had before I came to where I was now. The fight. I had been dueling Bellatrix Lestrange when somehow I was hit and fell through…fell through the arch that was covered in a veil. I could hear Harry scream…I could still hear the violence and battling before it became so dark, and so quiet.

So, did that mean I had died? If I died, where was I now, and how did I come to be here? Surely this couldn't be the afterlife…full of darkness and pain. I had not done anything bad to deserve this. My mind panicked for a moment. 

"He's awake," a voice said. 

"Ah, good…are you all right, young man?" another asked him.

My first instinct was to get my wand out, but I couldn't even move my arm. "Who are you?" I asked. My voice sounded un-used, for some reason. How long had I been unconscious, anyway?

"We are the dwellers of the veil," a male voice answered. 

Dwellers of the veil…that sounded very unfamiliar to my ears. Didn't ring a bell. But the veil; that, I knew of. It was where I had passed through, although I figured that passing through the veil meant I would be dead. "Am I dead?" I asked next, hoping to settle my suspicions. 

"If dead you are, then you are as dead as any of us, and I feel very much alive," came an answer from a female voice this time. 

"Can you get up?" 

"No," I answered. "I can barely move." 

"Ah, that's not very good, is it?" 

I was starting to grow annoyed at the oh-so-obvious answers these people were giving me, and the odd questions they were asking me. If only I could get up and off the ground I could move away from them and try to find a way out. I have to find Harry, I thought, I have to find him and see if he's okay. 

My chest hurt. A burning feeling shuddered through me. 

"We're healing you," someone said.

I stayed still; what else could I do? I was surprised, and grateful for their wanting to help me. I wanted out. I needed to get out of here, but I could barely see anything. 

"Ah, I've found a stick in your robe pocket, what is—"

"A wand!"

"Oh, a wand! Let me see! I haven't seen one of those for years!"

"Hey!" I cried, "That's my wand." 

"Yes, of course it is. I only wanted to see it."

"Are you feeling better, young man?"

No one said anything for a moment. I took a breath of air and noticed that I could breathe properly. The pain in my chest was no longer, and the burning wasn't there.

"Yes, I am, thanks. I'm Sirius, by the way."

"Ah, it is nice to meet you, Sirius. I am Horace Deleron, and these are the other dwellers of the veil. Most of the others have forgotten their names, being here for so long. I am one of the more recent ones…by about 1000 years, to be exact."

I grabbed for my wand, whispered "Lumos" and a light shone from the tip of my wand. My eyes took a moment to focus and adjust to the sudden form of light. A middle-aged man stared back at me, his eyes dark but held interest and curiosity. 

"Ah, that's better, isn't it? I can see you. And my, my, you look as though you've just been through one great battle."

"I have," I answered restlessly. "Do you know how I can get out of here?" 

The man in front of me, Horace, I think, shook his head. "If I did, I wouldn't be here anymore."

"So, this isn't the place for the dead, then?"

"Good heavens, no. It's been believed to be, since no one who went in ever came out. Everyone just assumed that whoever passed through the veil was dead, or good as dead."

I shone my wand around my surroundings to find that without the light, it would be impossible to move around. It was a single chamber, made from stone and very well furnished. There were soft chairs and beds in the room covered in velvet-like covers. Pictures hung on the wall but they were empty of all people. A single fruit bowl and a set of goblets stood empty on the table beneath one of the empty paintings. 

"How did you guys manage to live here?" I asked. 

Horace shrugged, "See that bowl over there, and the goblets? They fill up every time we empty them. Day and night never come…it is always empty outside. There is one window, but its useless trying to see through it, and trying to break through it is impossible. As soon as the glass shatters, it fixes itself." 

I shone my wand at the other dwellers. All of them looked more or less the same age, and wore the same expression: hopelessness. I took a moment to wonder what I would do if I were to stay in this chamber for thousands of years, and the thought scared me. I would rather die. I had to find Harry again; just that thought alone summoned a small hope in me. I would find a way to escape this place, and I would take these stragglers with me.

"I'm escaping," I announced. Horace shook his head, his eyes wide. "You're…what? Please dear boy, if we could have done the same thing, we would have. But there is no bloody way!"

"How did you get here?" I asked Horace. He looked surprised to be asked such a question. For a moment all he did was scratch his head in deep thought. Then he answered. "I…I was down in the Department of Mystery, when I saw this veil…someone was whispering at me, and I just…fell in. It looked like nothing more than a silly piece of cloth, but once I fell through, I looked back to find the veil and the arch and there was nothing there."

As if by instinct, I looked behind me to the wall where I thought I may have fallen through, and to my disappointment, there was nothing but the stone wall to block my freedom. I didn't have a plan just yet. I had to figure out something though, and fast. 


	3. Chapter Three

[Disclaimer;] I do not own any of the characters, or any places, etc…it is all from JK Rowling, and is owned by her. I do however; own the made-up events that take place.

[Authors Note;] Not much to say this time. ON WITH THE SHOW. 

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Dwellers of the Veil

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By: Lixia

Chapter 3

Harry found himself walking back to the small house on Privet Drive in a dull and slow pace. Dudley would not be home for another hour or so, but Harry didn't feel like hanging around Little Whinging any longer. He passed the house where Mrs. Figg used to live; she moved though, last he heard. She turned out to be a Squib, someone who knew about the wizarding world but didn't possess any magic herself. It was odd to find out that she knew about him all his life. . It was also somewhat irritating that she had treated him so badly, when he was being watched and spied upon for most of his life. His anger towards Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts had faded, although he still felt like he was being treated unfairly. He now knew the truth, it haunted him besides Sirius; and he didn't want to admit it, but he had been grateful to hear that Dumbledore _had_ cared about him. Cared about him enough to risk keeping a secret from him for his own happiness. He didn't remember hearing those words when Dumbledore had actually spoken them, but when he had the time to ponder the hours of talking, did he finally pick up on it. 

The paved street wound around Little Whinging, Surrey, leading to all the houses that looked more or less identical to the others. He looked up at the slowly darkening sky. He saw a white owl fly overhead in the sky. It was Hedwig.

He quickened his pace a bit, hoping not to bump into Dudley, his gang, or anyone for that matter who were even slightly related to the Dursleys. Number four, Privet Drive looked the same as always. It was nearing the end of July, the beginning of August, which meant he would soon be returning back to the Burrow with Ron and the other Weasleys. It was the only thing that seemed to calm his mind nowadays. 

The flowers in his Aunt Petunia's bed were withering, dying of thirst from the lack of rain they had been getting. The windows were opened, the lacey curtains pushed aside to let in a brisk breeze. Now, it was evening and the air was cooler, which meant the house would be cooled by now.

But that didn't matter to Harry. He seemed to move through life at Privet Drive like a puppet. Even when his aunt and uncle complained at him, he simply obeyed and once he was finished, he returned to his room. 

He opened the door and stepped inside only to meet his uncle. Vernon glared at him, his eyes small and beady. His face was purplish, and he took up most of the entrance way with his fat body. "Where have you been?" he asked, his voice obviously trying to control his temper. 

"On a walk," Harry answered dully. 

"A walk, eh? Who said you could go on a walk?" 

"I did." Harry didn't really care whether his uncle and aunt got angry at him. Moody had already talked to them, but even the fact that he had protection didn't faze him. He just wanted his godfather back and he wanted to aggravate Vernon. 

Vernon's glare didn't cease, but he didn't say anything either. His lips trembled, and he looked as if he were about to explode a smorgasbord of insults at Harry, but instead he took a deep breath and said, "To your room."

Harry shrugged and obeyed his uncle. He trodded up the steps, went towards his room, and shut the door behind him; Vernon remained downstairs in a shaken fury, like a champagne bottle about to pop.

Hedwig was waiting at his windowsill, a letter attached to her leg. Harry approached her, took the letter and watched her fly off into the night again, probably to catch her dinner. He sat down on his bed and opened the letter which was addressed to him from his best friend Ron.

_Hey Harry,_

_How's it going, mate? Mum says we're to come and pick you up next week._

_We'll be spending August at the Burrow. Dad's been so busy lately, what with all that…Order stuff and all. I can't say much else about that still, just in case this letter's intercepted. I suppose you'd want to let your uncle and aunt know when we're coming to get you. Answer back to tell us you're coming. We'll be there on the night of August 3rd regardless of whether your uncle and aunt let you, of course. _

_Ron_

That was something to look forward to. He would get to leave Privet Drive, and perhaps be busy enough to forget the lingering notion about his godfather. He would be distracted enough to perhaps forget the prophecy that lay on him like a gigantic boulder, at least for a little while. Best of all, he would be able to see his best friends again. Hermione would surely come, wouldn't she? 

He put his letter on the small table next to his bed and lay back on the hard mattress. It had been Dudley's old bed, later given to Harry as one of his birthday presents. Staring up at the ceiling, thoughts of what happened in the Department of Mystery swirled back into his head. He fought to think about something else, _anything else…Quidditch….His upcoming visit to the Weasleys… and settled into an uneasy, and uncomfortable sleep…_

He was running through a large room in the Ministry…it was more like a corridor with doors—no, veils every which way. Black cloth draped over every arch in a menacing way, forcing Harry to panic. Which veil held the place where Sirius Black lay, probably unconscious and possibly near death? He felt sweat prick beneath his pajamas along his spine. He continued to run, stopping at each veil to pull aside the cloth and discover what was beyond it. Every one of them was blank. Every one of them was dark, and told him he had no idea what to look for.

"Sirius!" he cried as loud as he could. His voice started to become hoarse until he could only choke out "Sirius." He collapsed to the ground, out of breath and tried to regain his composure. He looked up and in front of him laid a veil he hadn't seen through yet. 

This was it. This was where Sirius was. Harry crawled up on his knees and pushed aside the veil. "Sirius?" he whispered. There was blackness beyond the veil…and yet, there was something beyond it. Something breathed…groaned…and it was a man…

He woke up to the sound of Dudley's yelling. 

"MUM I DON'T WANT TO GO!" 

"But Diddykins, please…we have to. It would be the best thing for our family to do," came Petunia's soft voice in pleading. 

Harry rose from his bed and stretched. His stomache felt oddly empty: he'd missed dinner and probably breakfast. He looked at his clock. 11:00 AM, it read. He sighed and flopped back on to his bed. Shortly, he heard the footsteps of his uncle storming down the hall towards his room. He whipped the door open and glared at Harry, his beady pig eyes staring. 

"You boy, we'll be out for the morning, visiting Dudley's grandmother. I expect you to stay here. We'll be back by noon." With that, Vernon left the room in a huff. Harry collapsed back against his pillow, suddenly in a bad mood. He had been dreaming about Sirius. In fact, he had found him, or…he thought he would have. If only he had been allowed to sleep for a few more minutes, he would see whether Sirius was really beyond the last veil or not. 

He groaned and turned over to face the wall. Shortly, he could hear the doors close, followed by more whining from Dudley. Then the car doors slammed and the engine roared to life. A moment later, he heard the car drive off. The Dursley's were gone. 

What was he going to do in the meantime? Harry wondered, as he lay on his bed in anger. It wasn't that he wanted to be included in the Dursley's affairs, but he really hated being left out of things. It bothered him even more that he had haunting nightmares, and practically nothing to look forward even by going to the Burrow and Hogwarts. Funny how he thought it would take all his problems away. 

Sirius was gone, and he would be in his sixth year at Hogwarts, merely a year away from graduating from the school he'd come to know as his true home. He would be extremely busy with studies and on top of that, he had to worry about his life and the wizarding war that was surely to come soon. At first he thought it would keep his mind off of Sirius, but everything somehow related back to his godfather, and he felt glum again. He would have much rather wanted Ron and Hermione to come with him, back to the Department of Mysteries and search for Sirius throughout the school year—as long as it took, until they found his godfather whom he missed so much. It would settle the biggest part of aching in him so he could get to the other problems he seemed to face in his life.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to make the images of Sirius dissipate, but to no avail. In fact, as he tried harder not to think of him, the slightly gaunt, long-haired but handsome fellow appeared more vivid in his mind. 

Fed up, Harry leaped out of bed and strode towards his window where Hedwig's cage was situated. It was presently empty. She seemed to still be flying out in the wide world. Harry suddenly felt envious of his owl. She was free, while he was not. 

The letter from Ron lay on his desk, lonely and forgotten; Harry didn't remember to reply yet, though it didn't seem that a reply would matter. The Weasleys would come anyway. He took out a fresh piece of parchment and a quill and scribbled:

_Ron,_

_ I'll be ready for you when you come._

_Harry_

It was short, but to the point. He didn't really feel like elaborating either. He was feeling rather mope-ish, he had to admit. He looked out into the distance to find any small speck that would indicate Hedwig's flying figure, but he couldn't see anything. 

With nothing better to do, he waited. 


End file.
